


a satellite beside me

by allourheroes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alpha Derek Hale, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pining, Scent Marking, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: Derek needs to reject another Alpha without threatening the treaty. Luckily, his emissary is there to fake one for the team.If only Derek weren't alreadyactuallyin love with him.





	a satellite beside me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smowkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smowkie/gifts).



> Written for this [meme](http://allourheroes.tumblr.com/post/177417558384/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short) on tumblr. It was supposed to be a short, tiny, _little_ thing, but then this happened.
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://allourheroes.tumblr.com/post/177529263214/sterek-7-please-and-thank-you-d).
> 
> Title comes from "How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful" by Florence + the Machine.

The meeting is going well, everyone is agreeing to the terms, but then the female Alpha decides she’s waited long enough.

“So, a handsome, single Alpha,” Stacy says and she’s appraising Derek like she wants to devour him.

They’re here to make treaties, he reminds himself. That’s why it’s him and Stiles. It’s just that he’s very bad at not reacting negatively to unwanted attention.

He needs to do something. Quickly.

He looks to Stiles and it’s way too close to the truth, but Stiles communicates silently back—which is why Derek knows this is a _really_ bad idea, Stiles is way too perfect—and they come to an agreement.

“He’s flattered,” Stiles says, “but he’s taken.” Stiles slips his hand into Derek’s and Derek does his best to suppress his heartbeat. Elevated is fine, but for his heart to sound like it’s ready to give out at a single touch from someone he’s supposedly dating is a little too much.

“Your emissary is your mate?” Stacy looks skeptical. “He’s so…human.”

Stiles bristles. “I don’t have time to get into it, but yeah, I’m human. What of it?”

Derek squeezes Stiles’s hand. Again, the treaty. They’ve gotta pretend to be nice for just a little while longer. “I would advise you don’t come into our territory and talk badly of my mate,” Derek warns, flashing his eyes for effect.

“You’re lucky you’ve got that reputation,” the other Alpha, Minho, says, but he looks more amused than anything, eyes Stiles appreciatively. Derek lets out a low growl, glad that this one hasn’t insulted Stiles but unwilling to let Stiles be treated as an object or a prize either.

Stiles has been his fake mate for all of five minutes and already Derek is ready to fight for his honor. It might have something to do with the fact that Derek’s wolf has recognized Stiles as his mate for at least four years and he’s just been too scared to do anything about it.

“Can you really do a full shift?” Stacy asks. She’s itching for a real reason to call him out.

“Yes,” Stiles answers for him. “And I don’t know about you, but it’s more than a little disconcerting to wake up with a wolf after sex with a man. Werewolf. Werewolf in man form.” The intention is there, even if the execution needs work.

Derek winces, but when Stacy raises an eyebrow at him, he tries to go for sheepish. Stiles is way better at selling them than he is and he’s the one who’s actually in love.

Minho ignores the tension. “Alright. I say we all get together and seal this thing up right. I’ve got a few bottles of were whiskey and two fine betas vying for my attention, you’ve got your mate. Stacy’s got…high hopes.” He grins as she glares him down. “Tomorrow, night before a full moon, should be a good time. We can meet in my penthouse hotel room.” His pride at his lodgings should really be lessened by the face that the Hale pack paid for it, but it makes the part of Derek that wants to revel in superiority glory at the thought.

This is, however, going to be more difficult than just saying Stiles is his mate to throw another Alpha off track.

Before Derek can think of a good lie, Stiles says, “Great. We’ll be there.”

Stacy, too, mumbles her acquiescence and Derek has to nod, for lack of anything else to do.

~

The next morning, Derek hears a noise down below, listens only a second before he’s certain it’s Stiles.

He tries to just go about his business, but he also sets about making a pot of coffee because he knows Stiles will be pleased by it.

Derek has been doing a lot of things to please Stiles. It’s only now that Stiles has to play the role of his mate that he realizes how much of it has already been mating behavior. Realizing it, however, doesn’t make him want to stop.

Stiles opens the door to the loft and Derek has already set his favorite mug with three sugar cubes in it next to the coffee pot. Stiles likes sugar cubes. Derek hides his smile as Stiles is drawn to the smell of coffee and pours it into his cup, the tinkling of the spoon an obnoxious sound were it not Stiles doing it. Well, it’s still obnoxious, but at least it’s in an _endearing_ way.

“Can you try to not be the noisiest person in existence?” Derek greets. He’s good at romance.

Stiles points his spoon, which drips coffee on the floor, and says, “Hey, that’s no way to talk to your mate. Where are the flowers and chocolates? Where are the disgusting offerings of dead things I don’t want?”

“I made you coffee,” Derek protests, and it feels like he’s said too much even though he’s done it a hundred times.

Stiles slurps from his mug, glaring at Derek over the rim as he does so.

Derek glares back.

It’s one of their things.

Then Stiles turns thoughtful. “So this thing tonight shouldn’t be a big deal…” he starts, but Derek knows Stiles has already gone through about fifty different scenarios in his head. It’s what makes him a great emissary. “We don’t want anyone questioning you and we know Minho’s got at least two thirsty betas, and there’s whatever Stacy’s going to get up to.” He sighs. “I get it. But you hurt an Alpha’s pride twice over by making _me_ your excuse.”

 _Twice over_ , Derek hears all too clearly. “She shouldn’t have said that.”

Stiles cocks his head. “It’s true though. I’m human.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Derek adds quickly.

Stiles looks like he’s going to take offense and, yeah, Derek can see why, but then Stiles goes into emissary mode. “Given the situation and the massive lie we’ve told, we’re going to need to play it up a little so that we can maintain a good relationship with their packs. Minho shouldn’t know we’ve lied and if his betas catch a whiff of you,” and Stiles makes a face Derek doesn’t quite understand, “well, we might have more problems. While Stacy…” He shakes his head, scrubs a hand through his hair. “We’ll see what happens there.”

“I’m guessing you have a plan?”

Stiles grins and Derek has sense enough to know that no matter what way this is about to go, he’s going to hurt. That’s okay though. He’s used to hurting.

“What is it?” he prompts, with all the false bravado and annoyance Stiles is used to.

It works, because Stiles loves feeling like he’s doing something just a little bit tricky. “I think you should sit down.”

Real concern bleeds in. “Why?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Just do it.” When Derek starts to move toward a chair, Stiles makes a considering sound. “Maybe we should start with the couch.”

Derek pauses, but he does as he’s told. A second later, Stiles is sitting beside him. Close. Way too close.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks, wanting to pull away and desperately wanting to pull Stiles in even closer.

Stiles is only touching him with his side, shoulder to Derek’s shoulder, elbow cocked in enough so he’s not poking Derek, but his thigh is a searing line of heat against Derek’s. “We might’ve gotten away with it yesterday, but if I’m your fake mate, you’re going to have to scent me.”

Derek opens his mouth, closes it. It makes sense. “Why did you say ‘start with the couch’?”

“Oh, if you sat in a chair, I’d have to jump straight to sitting in your lap and I figured we could save that for the party.”

“ _Sitting in my lap_?” Derek wants to scoff at him, but they’re so close, he’s not sure that he can.

Stiles nudges Derek’s arm until it’s slung around his neck. “Yeah. I mean, unless you _want_ me to do it now.” He makes to swing his leg over Derek’s in a straddle, but Derek is apparently radiating enough panic to keep him from going through with it. Instead, Stiles cozies himself into Derek’s side. “We don’t have to do anything,” Stiles tells him. “But we have to do something.”

“Stiles, that doesn’t make any sense.” Against his instincts for self-preservation—which are bad enough as it is—he settles around Stiles. His inner wolf whines in happiness.

They’re oddly quiet for a moment before Stiles says, “It’s weird how nice this is, right?”

Derek swallows thickly. “Yeah,” he says.

Stiles squirms to look at him. “You’re totally freaking out.”

“Look,” Derek says, and he closes his eyes so he can’t see Stiles, but it only serves to heighten his sense of touch, of smell, of sound. Stiles’s heartbeat is a staccato rhythm that wonderfully mismatches with his own. “It’s… _fine_. What else?” He blinks his eyes open but keeps his gaze trained on the window.

Stiles shrugs against Derek’s arm and…chest? Wait. How far cuddled in is he? “Mostly just the scenting. But then we’ve got to act the part. Your protective act seemed to work, but we should probably also show some kind of affection. Like you like me.”

“I _do_ like you.”

Stiles makes a disbelieving sound. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve said that. Ever.”

Derek would be able to pull off a better bitch face to ward off the implication if Stiles could actually _see_ him; his eyebrows usually do a lot of the talking for him. In this position, it’s words or actions and he’s terrible at both. “You’re my mate,” he says, quickly clearing his throat. “For tonight.” He finds his hand, the one draped over Stiles idly, scratching at Stiles’s arm, a familiar little gesture from the past when he had people who wanted to be close to him. “What do you have in mind?”

“Not much,” Stiles admits, and Derek can feel the slight rumble of his voice. “Just, like, normal stuff but a little wolfier.”

They talk a while longer and Derek watches Stiles frown at his phone for the next two hours, because Derek is scared to break the spell of Stiles gradually sprawling more and more over him. Derek hears Stiles’s stomach growl and gets up to make lunch and Stiles follows him.

“What are you doing?” he asks. Again.

“Buddy, since we’re not actually fucking, constant contact is the best way to permeate me with your scent.”

Derek tries not to imagine what Stiles would smell like if they really were fucking. He pushes the thought away and says, “‘Permeate’?”

“Yeah, you know,” and Stiles drapes himself over Derek’s back as Derek goes about gathering things, mixing things, frying things. “‘Permeate,’ verb, spread throughout. Let’s get some deep permeation going on. Not to be confused with penetration. Which would make the permeation easier.”

“ _Stiles_.” Derek has to move or lunch will be ruined, but this train of thought is not helping him.

Stiles hums. “Smells good.”

Derek tamps down the urge to preen. Even if it is all an act, his wolf is having the time of its life.

~

An hour before they’re supposed to be at the party, Stiles finally detaches from him. “Alright,” he says, “take off your shirt.” He seems to think this might be a rude thing to demand so he follows it with, “Please.”

“What? Why?” Derek was right. He’s in pain from the things this day is doing to him. How’s he going to feel in another few hours after making other people believe it’s actually true?

Stiles is already stripping off his own shirt and Derek has never seen Stiles shirtless before. Which seems impossible, but somehow true. He had known, in the back of his mind, that Stiles was in better shape than his demeanor might suggest, but seeing now the expanse of his shoulders and the definition of his abs and—

“Okay. Look at me like that in front of the others. But look _happy_ about it.”

Derek blinks and Stiles is holding out a hand, waiting for something. Uncertain, Derek pulls off his own shirt and hands it over. He watches Stiles shuck it on easily and the possessive part of his wolf brain nearly short-circuits.

Stiles tugs at the shirt until it falls right. Suddenly, he’s a bit less certain. “You can wear mine, if you want.”

Derek stares dumbly at the shirt Stiles is holding out. It smells like Stiles with a layer of Derek and he knows his own shirt must smell similarly. He takes it, swallows. “Yeah. Good idea.”

Stiles grins. “That’s why I’m the best emissary ever.”

And Derek rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know it was possible for you to get more full of yourself.”

Something ticks in Stiles’s expression and Derek can hear it before Stiles even says it and he wants to _die_. “I think the point would be for me to be full of you.”

Derek has no idea what his face looks like but Stiles touches his shoulder gently, tentatively, like he does when Derek is in immense emotional turmoil. Like no one else does.

“Hey. I’m just kidding around.” His smile is softer. “Don’t get me wrong, getting you flustered is pretty much the most fun I can possibly have, but…I can make an excuse to the Alphas if you really can’t do this. I know a mate is a special thing and you don’t want to fake it. Especially not with me.”

Even though words won’t come, Derek shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says. He pulls on Stiles’s shirt and tries not to breathe too deeply. He can’t even tell which emotions he can scent are his and which are Stiles’s because he’s such a wreck.

“Alright. If you’re sure, we just gotta fake it for a few hours before we duck out.” He winces. “I was going to use sex as an excuse. Should I not? I mean, I’m sure I can think of something else.”

“It’s fine,” Derek says again, like it’s the only response he can manage.

~

The whole way up to the suite, Derek and Stiles don’t say anything that could out them. This is actually easy as they revert to their normal bickering now that they’re not alone in the loft together and all over each other—literally.

“I know you know how to smile,” Stiles is saying. “I’ve seen you do it. Like, like when you flirted with that deputy. Or when something terrible happens to Scott and he totally deserves it. Or when I tripped on nothing.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I smile when I want to smile,” he says, then forces something akin to a smile but more like a grimace onto his face.

“You’re lucky,” Stiles says as they get to the door, “you’re just so—”

And then the door is opening.

Minho pushes a glass into Derek’s hand as soon as they’re in. “Welcome, welcome,” he says, and it’s obvious he’s already been hitting the were whiskey. “For you, Alpha Hale,” and it’s filled with over-the-top mock formality.

Stiles grins so Derek decides it’s all in good fun. “I drove here so I can’t,” he tells Minho, who stares at him like he’s grown another head.

“I can drive home,” Stiles butts in. “If you want.”

Derek mentally debates it and he remembers Stiles saying once that he can see Derek’s inner conflicts being determined through his eyebrows. “I trust you,” Derek tells Stiles, and Stiles’s smile isn’t really a grin, it’s softer. Derek doesn’t know what to do with it. He eyes the drink dubiously, gives it a sniff before he takes a sip.

Stiles pats him on the arm.

“You’re adorable together,” Minho slurs, but he seems caught off-guard. “I thought so yesterday but for some reason you didn’t smell so,” and he gestures in lieu of explaining.

Stiles clears his throat. “Yeah, well, we try to keep it all professional for official business.”

Minho nods in understanding, but neither Derek nor Stiles is sure how much he understands. He runs off to flirt with one of the betas he must’ve been talking about before, because she fawns over him even as he makes a stupid joke.

“Not so bad, huh?” Stiles murmurs, well-aware that anyone could hear him.

“Maybe,” Derek whispers back, but then Stacy appears and he wraps an arm protectively around Stiles. It’s supposed to be for show, but it was all instinct. “Stacy,” he says, and this is accompanied by something more like a baring of teeth. “Nice to see you.”

Stiles elbows him. “Don’t be rude, babe,” he admonishes. Stiles is faking it, too, but he’s better at it as he compliments her outfit.

Stacy is cordial at best, but she downs her drink and walks off before too much interaction can take place.

“That may or may not be the end of it, but we might as well have fun while we’re here.” Stiles gives Derek’s ass a smack before he runs off to cavort with Minho and the betas. There are a few others in the suite, at least one more of Minho’s besides the two aforementioned and then maybe a couple of Stacy’s. They’re all staying in the hotel so it makes sense that they’re all here even though it’s just him and Stiles from his pack. It could’ve been Scott, too, if he had shown up to the treaty talks, but it’s too late now.

He should’ve thought of Scott.

Suddenly, however, Derek is worried. Minho and Stacy haven’t established emissaries yet, so it’s all wolves wandering the suite. All wolves…and Stiles.

It’s like Stiles senses his worry, because Stiles glances back at him, whispers, “It’s okay.”

Just like that, he feels a little bit better. Slowly, he sips his drink, but then what must be Stacy’s favorite beta comes to chat him up and he finds his drink empty—although not for long as Minho makes a round with the bottle.

Derek doesn’t know how this guy can keep talking to him when he gives him so little to work with.

But then something the beta—Evan? Andrew?—is saying hits Derek.

“Is that dude really your _mate_?”

And it’s the tone, like Stacy’s the day before, that claws down Derek’s spine. He drops his glass to a shelf. “Yes,” and the Alpha voice reverberates, making the beta, even though he’s not Derek’s, cow. “Stiles is my mate. Do you have a problem with that?” Derek knows his eyebrows are doing that menacing thing that they do, but he can’t be bothered to hide his anger. His wolf is pleased of his defense, but the human part of Derek’s mind is screaming at him for getting caught up in the lie. He blames the whiskey, takes his posturing down a notch so as to not draw unnecessary attention.

Then, this basic beta has the gall to say, “Then why haven’t you claimed him properly?”

Although no one else approaches, Derek feels everyone’s eyes on him. “He’s my emissary,” Derek tries, “and even a mating bite holds a risk. I couldn’t lose him as an asset.”

“Or you just don’t care enough about him,” maybe-Evan suggests. “Which I get.”

This time, Derek hoists him by the throat, his eyes glowing red, his fangs out, and his claws lengthening, beginning to puncture the skin and fill the air with the coppery tang of blood.

He feels Stiles next to him, but all he can see is the idiot who would dare question an Alpha’s mate.

“Der— Derek,” and Stiles’s voice is too high, panicked, and Derek’s instincts shift priority. “Put him down, alright? Everything is fine.” He swallows. “ _I’m_ fine. But he might not be if you don’t put him down. And that’ll ruin the treaty. We want the treaty.”

Eyes falling closed, Derek listens to the sound of Stiles’s voice, his heart, remembers why he chose Stiles as his anchor all those years ago. He lets down the beta, who has sense enough this time to back off. He lets go of the shift and settles back into human form.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing to my beta, Hale?” Stacy demands, and she hasn’t shifted but she’s readying for a fight.

Minho steps in, steps up for Derek. “What’s your beta doing over here talking shit? I know who he gets it from, but we gotta be better than that. We’re _Alphas_.” He raises his eyebrows at her, a significant look passing between them.

“It’s fine,” Derek says, for what feels like the millionth time. He thinks about apologizing but doesn’t see any need to actually do it.

Stacy huffs out a breath through her nose. “ _Fine_.”

Minho waves Derek over to one of the plush couches and this time Stiles sticks to Derek’s side.

Without asking, Minho has retrieved Derek’s glass and is pouring him another drink. “Here.”

This time, Derek just takes it, takes a large gulp before Stiles pries it from his hand and sets it on the coffee table. “Thanks.” Derek is talking to both Stiles and Minho. He feels eyes on him, can smell anger and fear now over everything else, but he’s calm. He’s actually starting to feel good. Maybe there’s something to letting his wolf have some fun, inhibitions lowered by the drinks.

Stiles seems to know he’s more relaxed because he takes the opportunity to crawl into Derek’s lap. Just like he said he would.

It forces Derek to wrap an arm around him for balance and Derek stops smelling the fear, starts smelling something more intoxicating than the laced alcohol.

It’s the danger, he knows. The sense of adventure and the aftermath of fear.

Stiles likes that.

He inhales deeply, wants to unabashedly hold on to that scent, but he shakes his head enough to focus.

Minho seems to have noticed anyway, his gaze is softer now, but somehow more assessing than it had been when they arrived. “When’d you know?”

Stiles glances from Minho to Derek, interest piqued, and Derek should bite his tongue, but he’s too loose right now, too happy with having fought for Stiles’s honor, having gained an ally, having Stiles’s warm weight on him. “I was out,” Derek starts. “I was left behind when there were other things, more important, that needed to be dealt with, but,” and Derek remembers it like it’s still happening, opening his eyes and _seeing_ for the first time, “he came back for me.” He turns amused, fond. “And he slapped me in the face because I wasn’t waking up. But then it snapped. And I— I knew.” He goes quiet, thinks Stiles has gone tense in his lap, but he can’t let go or Stiles will slip.

Then Stiles hums. “I think I had an idea when we were trapped in the pool. And the dozen other times Derek tried to get me out of danger, like, well, the pool. The police station. The hospital.” He shrugs. “Or maybe I knew when I trespassed on his property looking for Scott’s inhaler.”

“That was the first time we met. You accused me of murder at least six times after that.”

Stiles laughs. “Because you totally seemed like a murderer. A hot, fascinating murderer, but a murderer. And also I thought you were dead, one of the times.”

“You two, saving each other and shit. That’s really nice,” Minho comments, bringing awareness back to his presence. “Sounds like quite the love story.”

“It’s not—” Derek starts reflexively, but then he stops. He gets caught up on how quickly Stiles had answered and his head spins.

“Yeah,” Stiles tells Minho. “It sure does.”

They let Minho take the lead, but Stiles leans further and further into Derek’s space, slipping his arm around Derek and lightly scratching the nape of Derek’s neck. Derek glances at Stiles to see if Stiles is doing it on purpose, is messing with him, but Stiles is making that face that says he’s actually listening to Minho.

Eventually, Stiles yawns, gives Derek a fond, meaningful look—and Derek, Derek just doesn’t know if it’s for show or not anymore, everything in his head is fuzzy and just Stiles, _Stiles_ —then back at Minho, who now has a beta sitting beside him. “I think it’s time to get this big guy home,” Stiles says, and he shifts, making Derek grip him tighter before letting go, embarrassed.

Stiles stands, but he takes Derek’s hand and gives him a tug, and Derek follows easily.

“We’re pleased to have made the treaty,” Stiles says, and he grins at Minho. “If you ever need anything, our pack can help you out. If she needs anything,” and Stiles glances back toward Stacy, “well, we’ll, uh. We’ll try.”

Minho laughs and they’re lucky that Stacy is making out with someone in the bedroom or there’d likely be hell to pay.

Derek and Stiles say their goodbyes and Derek is scared to speak as they make their wake back to the car. “Thanks,” he murmurs, and Stiles bumps their shoulders together.

“No problem.”

Stiles jangles the keys a couple of times as they stand outside the car, glancing up at the hotel uncomfortably like he wants to say something but doesn’t know if they’re far enough out.

Derek watches him, hoping that he isn’t the reason Stiles is nervous.

“Let’s go,” is all Stiles says before they get in the car, and Derek feels the tension radiating off of him until they get back to the loft.

Derek wonders why Stiles comes all the way back up with him, but then Stiles says, “Do you want your shirt back?”

For some reason, Derek has no idea what to say, just stands there dumbly as Stiles tilts his head.

“Derek—”

And it’s the tone that gives him away, too serious. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I’m your mate,” Stiles says. It’s not a question. Not a joke.

“You don’t have to—” But he stops when Stiles holds up a hand.

Stiles crowds into his space, but he doesn’t kiss him, just stares at Derek like he’s seen God. “I’m your mate,” he says again, and he cups Derek’s face in his palms.

Jaw still in Stiles’s hands, Derek nods, watching the expression that spreads over Stiles’s face. It’s an expression he’s never seen before but one he wants to remember forever.

“God, we have a lot to talk about.” Stiles lets out a disbelieving puff of laughter. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Derek brings his hands up to grab Stiles’s, although he leans into the touch. “So you meant it? Back with Minho?”

Tears are welling in Stiles’s eyes as he nods, sputters, “Y-yeah.”

And Derek kisses him, an almost-chaste press of their lips. He pulls back and Stiles’s expression has changed. “What?”

“You’re smiling. I knew you could do it, _babe_ ,” he teases.

Derek shoves him, lightly. “Shut up.”

Stiles grins harder. “Never.”

Derek sighs, but his heart is full and his wolf is happier than it’s ever been. He’s happier than he’s ever been.

For the first time, he gets to fall asleep in the arms of his mate.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments give me life and, if you'd like, you should come follow/prompt me on [my tumblr](http://allourheroes.tumblr.com). :)
> 
> [NOW WITH A PODFIC VERSION LISTED BELOW :O ]

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Satellite Beside Me (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164442) by [AiJamaisFacil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiJamaisFacil/pseuds/AiJamaisFacil)




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